It's a problem
It's a problem between the heart and mind where last I search is first I find And rough though smooth I find the grind of day to day but left behind the search of something long ago I found the note and read it so 'twixt the penultimate and end tone I found, I found myself a show. The curtains rise The anchor drops I sink or swim A thousand knots.
The ticking watch on my wrist beats fast My mouth, the face, the flag full mast I count my beats, and hours last the sound of dread, This too did pass. Official the word, I deny the term but find I lack the proper sternum to protect my heart from germs like prokaryotic myxobacteria.Â
You infest my mind and brain Though thousands of thoughts leap to complain I realize my fears just will drain.Â
And I wouldn't have it another way.Â
